


the demons in the shadows have come into the light, [back to haunt us]

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, more season six speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: The civilization of Sanctum has their own ways with dealing with tension and conflict that arises in their world. Through the use of mind simulations, they are able to force resolutions in people who need it most.Russel doesn’t hesitate when asking Bellamy and Clarke, claiming the necessity for serenity and peace. Not only do they have to face their demons of their horrid past, but it doesn’t help when the simulation makes them wonder what could’ve been. How would things have changed if a single thing would’ve happened differently or been said?One word,everything.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for a little less than a month now, and I’ve been so excited about. comments are always welcomed and I hope you guys enjoy. Hopefully this is decent!
> 
>  
> 
> [So so grateful for anyone who nominated me and this fic in BFWA 2019 for the Underrated fics category! It means so much]

 

 _Now you're wired and you're tired_  
_There is never a break_  
_You only come alive at the thrill of the chase_  
_No, we can't help it  
We're always restless_

**Restless — Cold War Kids**

 

 

 

Clarke could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She can’t be going through this again although she knows she has to say something, anything to counter Russel and his council. It was a ridiculous idea, all of it. 

 

“Can we do anything else?” She catches everyone off guard, interrupting the bickering between multiple people. She watched as Bellamy turned to her with the same look on his face: one of fear and hesitation. “Our people have been through enough torture, we shouldn’t be forced to do this.” 

 

The oval table seemed longer as she looked across to find Russel’s gaze, her body goes cold. She couldn’t do this to herself, _not again_. 

 

“It’s mandatory.” Russel says, and her mind goes blank. She can’t disrupt the peace that she tried so hard to maintain...its too important to everyone to live in harmony. “You have two options, one being going through stimulation’s that make you face your past head first, or you aren’t welcome here and have to be banished.” 

 

She bites her lip hard, cautious of blood when the metal taste falls on her tongue. 

 

He can’t be serious? Everything was fine and running smooth, no problems have been reported between the Sanctum people and her group. Just when she experienced a fraction of peace, it was taken away. She shouldn’t be surprised but she was shocked at the fact that she was forced to _face_ her demons for the first time. 

 

Clarke has spent a majority of her life regretting a lot of decisions, she hated herself even. She’s thought about the things she’s done, the killing and making decisions when she isn’t sure if it was morally acceptable. She has made so many mistakes, so many _right_ choices that leave her people in resentment and heartache by _her_ hand. 

 

Now, it was different. 

 

From what she heard from her mother and Kane, the medical rooms had a single chair in the middle of the room with wires hooked up to machines and a strap along the head rest that would keep her body in place, and she wondered _why_ that would need to happen. She thinks back to Mount Weather, that time in her life seemed so long ago but it was the first thing she thought of. 

 

They were going to be tested on. 

 

They were going to be analyzed for their emotional torment, their past of horrible actions, and it was something Clarke wasn’t looking forward to. _Not at all_.

 

The realization leaves her stunned, as she can’t look at anyone in the large meeting room. 

 

“Who needs to do this?” She demands, “Who do you want?” 

 

Bellamy hasn’t looked away, “ _Clarke_.” He warned. 

 

She shakes her head as she keeps her attention on Russel and his confidants beside him, “I just want to know who you want to be put through these stimulations because I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to see all of us.” 

 

A small smile grows on Russel’s face as he talks, “You’re right, I wouldn’t want to put all of you through the stimulus.” 

 

Although it made her sigh in relief as a part of her acknowledged that her people wouldn’t suffer, it didn’t take away the feeling of Clarke heart beating rapidly or how her palms sweat as she waits for an answer. She hopes to hear someone else’s name as she gets proven right in her theory, anyone else who’s willing to share their trauma, but she forgets that hope doesn’t work for her. 

 

She grips onto the table, and Bellamy is leaving his spot next to Kane and she knows exactly  _why_. 

 

She doesn’t notice him at first, her eyes too fixated on how Russel looks between her and Bellamy. That’s when her heart drops, and she doesn’t feel anything anymore. She can’t possibly— 

 

She doesn’t finish her thought, her mind shutting off completely when Russel speaks finally. “I want your leaders.” He announces to the members of the sky people who are standing around the table, his voice determined and final. There was no changing his mind, and that’s when she felt Bellamy grip her elbow—because he knew and he saw other people react.

 

His grip was strong, and stinged but she was glad for the reminder of human contact in that moment. 

 

It was like time stood still. 

 

Her body froze in place when Russel looks at her, this time with a triumphant smile until he realized what he had done and starts to frown, as _if,_ he could feel anything but pride. He must’ve planned this, he must’ve known— 

 

“Clarke and Bellamy,” Russel states, and the table erupted into disagreements and turmoil. Neither have them have moved an inch, “From what I’ve seen, you two are the perfect candiates for bringing peace to both parties.” 

 

 _Peace? She thought they already had that_. This was it, the day she never thought would come, but finally came to haunt her. She has to be strong, Clarke can’t let her past come rushing back to her. The thing about being put through Hell and back, was that she already experienced the bad part: the part that left her broken inside. She hasn’t pieced the pieces back together yet, but she was _already_ broken. 

 

The only thing that worries her is how Bellamy hasn’t moved, nor given her any indication that he was nervous or scared. 

 

He was numb inside too. 

 

* * *

Clarke decides to go first, only after being told that Bellamy would be put in a seperate room and away from her. If things got bad, she wouldn’t want him to hear her scream or cry out in frustration. 

 

She has no idea how strong or advanced this technology was, and she was close to finding out. The whole idea of ‘ _Facing Your Demons_ ’ was daunting, it terrified her beyond her imagination. She hasn’t been this scared to do something since Praimfaya when she sacrificed her happiness for her friends, and she was about to live through it again. 

 

She wasn’t stupid. Clarke knew what she was doing, what she was going to see in her mind, she just didn’t know how it was going to appear. 

 

A nurse straps her into the chair, her arm hooked up to an IV tube, and there was a single strap around her head that forced her to stay put. The woman looked to be around the same age as her mother, fragile and careful with her actions. 

 

“Is this truly the price of peace?” Clarke says with uncertainty, even if she knows she can’t do anything to escape this. “My people would benefit from me doing this for them?” 

 

“Certainly,” The woman replied, making sure that Clarke’s back is straight against the chair and that everything looked correct. She nods, “The stimulation helps to move forward, to get over the pain you were once put through. It’s helped everyone here, and it won’t be as bad as you think.” 

 

Clarke frowned, “You don’t know what I’ve been through.” 

 

“Nobody does.” The woman says, and points a finger at Clarke with a tilted smile on her face . “It’s what makes this so important, you can move on from what you’ve done.” 

 

“You have to stay calm.” The nurse says. 

 

“I don’t even know how to do that.” 

 

“You _need_ to try,” The nurse replied. “I’m warning you, this might not be easy to handle.” 

 

She stays silent after that, and when the nurse leaves, the panic returns. It settles deep in her stomach until she forced herself to swallow her nerves until it hurt. 

 

A sudden voice from a speaker in the room catches her off guard, and she recognized it instantly. It was Russel, only more muffled and low to the sound in her ears. She tries to get comfortable as he spoke, warning her of the danger of getting inside her head or too deep into her emotions, but she focuses on gripping the arm rest and trying to keep her mind clear of any negativity. 

 

Russel speaks for a while, but she drowns his voice out. Her breathing is steady, her eyes fluttered shut to keep relaxed. It was working for now, and she tried to keep it that way. It didn’t end up being as easy, it was like multiple signals in her brain that made her rethink each bad memory; with specific details and emotions that she would usually have to fight off if she wanted to sleep at night. 

 

In the end, it was a big mistake to not listen to what he had to say. She was losing the grasp between reality and her past, and losing it _quickly_. Clarke was struggling with distinguishing the difference between her eighteen year old self or, if she was actually reliving the biggest and most crucial decisions she’s ever made. 

 

It was _so_ difficult. 

 

 

She couldn’t tell if she was screaming, or if it was eighteen year old Clarke who was. 

 

She couldn’t tell if her hand was pulling on the lever, or if it was eighteen year old Clarke who was trying to run every possible scenario in her head to find some way, _any_ way, to save as many lives as possible. 

 

The only thing she figured out was that she was in the past, she was reliving her first test as a leader of the Sky People. 

 

 _She was back at Mount Weather, for a second time_. It was one of her biggest regrets, knowing that she killed hundreds of people, it was a thought that kept her in a daze everyday that passed afterwards, that made her question her own worth in life. Was she worth it? 

 

It was hard to tell back then, if she was making the right choice. Clarke decided to tell herself that it was both; the younger version and current version of Clarke Griffin, were both screaming for help. With a heavy burden on her shoulders, the crushing thought of Finn and Bellamy missing and possibly dead because she couldn’t save them, and the realization of being kept alive meant sacrificing your own to bone marrow supplements — She saw the fluorescent blue light make a path for her to follow in her mind, and it’s just like before. It feels so real, so fresh in her memory, because everything looks the same. 

 

The last thing she saw before letting the stimulation take over, was someone she never got to say goodbye to. He was so close, in the room opposite her’s, and she can’t hold back anymore; she still has no idea which version of herself is being heard in the real world, but she bangs her fist on the glass until it breaks. 

 

Glass shatters, and the other person stares in awe. 

 

“Clarke?” He mouthed, and she nods frantically. _What was going on_? 

 

She remembered it so clearly. His blue collared shirt and messy hair that fell flat against his forehead, and she just stares at him. There’s blood on her hands, this time it’s all hers, and she smiles. 

 

She takes a breath, “Monty?” 

 

Now, she’s fully submerged. She can’t escape, and she doesn’t know why it doesn’t seem like a great responsibility right then. The possibly of getting out was unknown, and all she could do was stare at a man who’s supposed to be dead. 

 

(It hits her later. She loses count of how many times she reaches out for people she’s lost in Mount Weather and they disappear into the atmosphere, the fantasy that her mind created, she still flinched backwards when Jasper pushed her away after Maya: and she cries so loud that even Bellamy doesn’t come to her.) 

 

The eighteen year old Clarke doesn’t see Bellamy yet in this memory, and she wonders why. What have they done? She doesn’t know....but there’s a ache that follows soon after that makes her think something was wrong. _What the_ — 

 

Everything goes **black** for a few minutes of silence **:** all she could hear was her footsteps, a group of her kids behind her, and a voice that sounded a lot like Bellamy who was clearing his throat to not show any emotion when they walk into a dining room turned cemetery with makeshift graves. Hundreds of people dead, because of them, because of _her_. 

 

She doesn’t know who screams louder. 

 

It was either her inner voice of disbelief that hoped that various heads would lift from dinner plates to convince her that they weren’t dead, or the rational side that made her realize they were. She killed mothers, fathers, innocent people.... _children_. 

 

“No... _No_.” She repeats, breathing heavy and could only picture her frantic running around the room: maybe it was a dream? a nightmare? _She did this_? Was it for a good reason? _Well, yes. She had to protect her people_. Will she be able to accept herself for the rest of her life? For knowing she pulled a lever that killed hundreds of people for wanting to **live**? 

 

The answer was no, not ever will she be able to accept what she did in Mount Weather. It was so painful, and Clarke could feel herself shaking with the intensity of being reminded. Her life wasn’t supposed to end up like this, she just wanted a new beginning, not to have her actions thrown in her face. She could taste blood again, and for once, she hoped it was her younger version experiencing that. The pain makes everything feel better, she realized. 

 

She caused a lot of people to hate the idea of doing what was best for your people if it meant hurting others, and she wished that they’d understand since they were never in her position. The last thing she sees is the person with the blue collared shirt run towards her, engulf her into a hug: and she doesn’t see anything after that. It goes back to darkness and that’s when it hits her. It was the last time she’d interact with Monty, and she couldn’t even apologize to Jasper; the person she hurt the most in the aftermath of Mount Weather, and that hurts so bad that she can’t even describe it. She wouldn’t be able to ever understand why she did those things. 

 

Why did she even try to fix the relationships that were so damaged after Mount Weather? It was useless, because everything changed after that. Even her relationship with Bellamy had never been the same, and she _hates_ that he’s the next familiar face she sees when the simulation starts up again. 

* * *

“If you need forgiveness, you’re forgiven for what happened, what you had to do to survive.” Bellamy says, and turns to face her. He reaches out to grab at her hand — the same hand that he held when they pulled that lever. She shakes her head and pulls it away, but he reminds her. “What _we_ just did, it’s okay.” 

 

Clarke already feels like she’s dead inside, everytime she blinks she could see the bodies and how lifeless they are. 

 

She wasn’t okay, and never will be. 

 

She wont ever truly be _fine_. 

 

She thinks back to what Bellamy kept emphasizing for her, how they pulled the lever _together_ and could ease the burden of survival and it’s consequences _together_. In that moment, standing outside of Camp Jaha, Clarke has never felt more alone and distant from everyone else. 

 

“I’m not going inside.”

 

“Clarke, please.”

 

“I’ll just be reminded of what I did to get them here, the reason why we all survived was because I killed.” She stops herself, not willing to break down and cry just yet. “I _killed_ people for them.”  

 

“It’s what we _needed_ to do to survive.” 

 

“It wasn’t the right thing.” Clarke argued as her gaze met Bellamy’s, both of their faces were dirty and tense with keeping the mask on. The mask was easy for the both of them, they kept their jaw tense and tears inside until they could be alone or with eachother. _It was what leaders do_. “Jasper won’t even look at me, Raven  hasn’t spoken to me since because she’s closer with him and wants to be there. To add on top to that, I haven’t seen one person look me in the eyes since we’ve gotten here.” 

 

Bellamy sighed, “They were scared for their lives just a few days ago. Clarke, you saved them even if you don’t like how we did it. The people at Mount Weather were gonna kill all of us for bone marrow, and we did what we had to do.” 

 

There was a breeze that passed through then, and it made Clarke feel hollow as she felt nothing against her skin. 

 

“I can’t.” She decides, face blank as she doesn’t move anything. “I can’t do this Bellamy, you have to understand.” 

 

“ _Please_ ,” 

 

“Have that drink for me.” 

 

“Clarke—“ 

 

She cuts him off with a single kiss on the cheek and a hug, the tears finally start to cascade onto her cheeks because she’s saying goodbye. She could ask him to come with her, but she figured that he would want to stay with their people to help rebuild. She spoke fast, not wanting to hear his plead or words of encouragement to stay with him. It was all too much, her heart felt too heavy. 

 

“Bellamy, just let me go.” She whispered in his ear, so softly that nobody else heard. She just hoped that he heard every breath she made, “May we meet again.” She promised with a nod of her head, not daring enough to look him in the eyes. 

 

She pulls away from his embrace, and tries to hide how she already felt a missing part of herself: of her heart, when she walked away from the arc of her camp base and walked further and further away from Bellamy. It was a promise she kept, and he let her leave. 

 

She should’ve asked him if he wanted to go with her, if he was willing to leave. 

 

She wanted to ask, but afraid of his answer. 

 

It hurts to know more now, that in this simulation, Bellamy would’ve crossed rivers and mountains to be and _stay_ at her side. He would’ve said _yes_ if she asked him then, and that stings her heart in all the wrong places. She placed the burden entirely on him, to keep the weight of ghosts on his shoulders that he helped to kill, for three months because she couldn’t face her people. He was there too, and right by her side in that room in Mount Weather. _He was there_.

 

* * *

The final simulation was the hardest. 

 

It was the one thing that kept her up at night, that even kept the real Clarke from sleeping the night before, and it was replaying in her mind. 

 

It was the events leading to the death wave of radiation that her people nicknamed Praimfaya: the realization of the world ending was in all capital letters blaring through her brain, burning through her hazmat suit in the stimulation. 

 

She wasn’t running away, she felt like she couldn’t move. 

 

She was standing with Raven and Bellamy as the winds picked up, as the heat got too much for her to handle but she didn’t want to complain, because her life was at stake. This suit was keeping her alive, no matter if it suffocated her in the end. It was working for now. 

 

Raven has the tablet held in both hands because she was shaking, she was scared too. She spoke louder than usual, a precaution to the wind rushing through the trees. 

 

“You guys have to do this quick.” She said, wild eyes turning to both Bellamy and Clarke. _They had to make it back_. It wasn’t a mission, but a priority. “Twenty minutes, that’s all you have.” 

 

Bellamy got closer, his steps heavy in the snow that made him slower in pace. He was next to Clarke, leaning into Raven to speak: “The satellite tower is a mile away from Becca’s lab, are you sure?” 

 

Clarke was silent, staring at both of her friends with trembling hands under her gloves. Could they really pull this off? 

 

Raven nods, “If you run fast enough.” 

 

“Does that guarantee that we’ll make it back in time?” Bellamy asks, but soon it turns to pleading. “Raven, tell me that we have enough time if something goes wrong and this doesn’t _work_.” 

 

“I can’t promise that.” Raven says with tears in her eyes, _God_ , she hates this just as much as they do. Clarke just looked at her, “You guys have to work quickly and the rest of us will wait for Murphy and Monty in the lab. Twenty minutes...that’s it.” When she finishes, her shoulders visibly slump and she bites her lip. 

 

Clarke couldn’t move. Neither version of herself knew what to do, and she gets ahold of her body only when Bellamy reaches for her hand and squeezes. 

 

“We got this.” He says, and she tries to believe him, she tries her absolute hardest to trust his word. She looks up at him, her lost eyes filled with fear was met with a face of determination and strength. _If she has Bellamy, she could do anything_. _“_ Let’s go. _”_ he nods his head at Raven, and he tugs Clarke’s arm as she gets handed the tablet _._

 

She didn’t let the doubt overcome her thoughts, she didn’t have time to think about the worst possible results even if it was all she could picture herself in. In that moment, she relished in how nice it felt to hold someone’s hand. She had craved the feeling of being held, the feeling of being shown affection — the other person being Bellamy, just made it so much better to acknowledge. 

 

 _Don’t think about_ — 

 

Clarke tugs Bellamy’s hand back forcefully, making his angry pacing come to a halt. 

 

 _Are you going to tell him_? It’s her only thought, her only chance. 

 

He looks at her with wide eyes, “Are you okay?” 

 

He’s also anxious, terrified of what happens next — _Of_ what could happen to them both if they don’t hurry, he couldn’t help but question what Clarke was doing in that moment. 

 

“I just wanted to say,” The words stop on the tip of her tongue, _come on! just say it already_. “I—“ She stutters again. 

 

Bellamy doesn’t wait any longer, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he pulls on Clarke’s arm in the direction of the satellite tower in the distance. 

 

“ _Hurry_.” Raven demands, calling after the two. Clarke turns around to face her and her heart drops to her feet, “Be careful and make it quick.” She mouthed. 

 

Clarke turns back around to face Bellamy as she feels like she can’t breathe, everything was too much. _Too real_. 

 

“Bellamy, _please_.” 

 

It makes him stop walking, and therefore she stops too. 

 

 _Don’t let go_. 

 

He waits for an answer, anything to add onto her desperation. **There’s nothing**. 

 

The words won’t come out, and the tears are forming in her eyes at a rapid pace. 

 

 _Can you slow down_?

 

_I have to say that I love you before it’s too late, but it just won’t—_

 

 _ **Please**_. _Just slow down_. 

 

“What happened?” He asks suddenly, picking up a reasonable pace so that they actually have a chance at— 

 

She couldn’t even think about it. 

 

Clarke swallows thickly, “I just wanted to say that we should hurry.” She hates what she chose to say. She hates herself in that moment, she hates how the words won’t come out, and there’s a weight that pushes down on Clarke’s heart so much that she feel like she can’t breathe in any more oxygen. She feels the Earth open beneath her feet, like she wasn’t meant to be there with him. Just like that, the realization dawns and she knows _exactly_ what happens next. “I heard Raven yell at us.” 

 

He frowns and simply says, “Then, let’s go.” 

 

Clarke wished it was that easy. 

 

As the simulation began to switch to darkness; an old friend, she could only see the way his face dropped with emotion. He looked at her with a blank and vivid gaze, filled of something she couldn’t describe or pinpoint. 

 

“Together?” He asks softly, voice muffled through the mic in his suit. There’s a hint of sadness laced into the phrase that he must’ve known it too. He must’ve known this was the end, it was the thought of only one winner, the universe against them. Who was stronger? 

 

She couldn’t say it back, so she just nods with a flat smile growing on her lips. 

 

Bellamy pulls her along, and the last thing she was able to grasp before her imagination of that moment was gone was...the tears that fell down Bellamy’s face when he looked up at Clarke who was standing at the top of the satellite tower. _Then, everything starts to go black again_. She doesn’t panic, she just sees a trace of his outline as he ran further and further away from her, back to the lab through her blurry vision. That’s when she screams for him. 

 

* * * 

So many questions had plagued her frazzled mind, exhaustion is all she felt throughout her entire body. At least, she knew she was alive. 

 

Were the simulations an alternate ending? She felt like she was experiencing Praimfaya again, the heat filling her from within, the feeling of being left behind. All of it. The tricks that played on her mind, it was all getting to be too much to handle. Was this all fake? 

 

Clarke didn’t see how the simulation ended because suddenly, she’s consumed by the light of a medical room and her heart is racing: her clothes feel damp with sweat, a headache growing in her temples, and she feels empty both physically and emotionally. 

 

She forced her eyes closed, not listening to a voice she remembered from before which happened to be the nurse. She doesn’t listen to anyone, and she comes up with a conclusion. 

 

She didn’t know if it was real or not, but it felt _real_. The Eliguis technology was something she’d never experienced before, the emotions she had spent so long trying to avoid had surfaced and Clarke was still trying to figure out what she could touch or feel in that moment. 

 

She wasn’t strong. Clarke could only think so highly of herself when she was Bellamy, and he was good. He was _so_ good with her, so understanding. 

 

She ruined everything good in her life. 

 

“ _Clarke_?” The nurse repeats for what felt like the millionth time, and she grips at the younger woman’s arms with force. 

 

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. 

 

She doesn’t want this to be a dream, she had just gotten Bellamy back from Space after six years — _this cant be a dream too? right_? — there’s panic that rises in her body, it settled in her hands and in her throat, any place she could physically feel. _This can’t be fake_. 

 

The truth is, is that she had just gotten Bellamy back and it’s like he wasn’t even there. It was like he came back as a whole new person, and he seemed better off without her in his life. Clarke’s throat burned, when she opened her mouth to speak, her vocal chords ached with the initial disbelief and screaming she had done. 

 

 

How did she react? Did she scream loud enough for Bellamy to hear? Did the nurse hear? 

 

“You’re safe now, child.” The other woman soothes, and Clarke gives up and slumps against the chair for a few seconds with her eyes aching to be shown to the world. If she could just...believe. “I have never seen anyone go through that much regret, I—“ 

 

Clarke shakes her head knowingly because she didn’t need to hear how broken she was inside, she was right all along. _Nobody understood her._

 

“You yelled for a man, the same one who’s in the other room.” The nurse had whispered in her ear, “I can only imagine the heartbreak you went through.” It was only because nobody understood her like Bellamy Blake, nobody loved her like he did. 

 

Clarke Griffin’s demons involved the neglect of a man who wanted to protect her from the monsters in her head. _**She was a demon to herself, and he was the light**_. 

 

Then, the door automatically opens and she whimpered in return. Her body was in pain, and the breeze felt nice against her burning skin: it made her wonder how Bellamy had done? Was he okay? 

 

Clarke hoped so. He was a good person, he must’ve have done better at keeping his emotions at bay. They both had secrets and feelings of isolation and loneliness, it wasn’t hard to tell from her eyes. She knew him, the old (but real.) version of Bellamy. She knows him so well— 

 

 _That’s the bad part_. 

 

That’s when her eyes open wide and they sting with tears, the realization was tough because she couldn’t be there with him — _Bellamy was experiencing the same thing._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demons of Bellamy Blake.

_She told me that I'm not enough, yeah_  
_And she left me with a broken heart, yeah_  
_She fooled me twice and it's all my fault, yeah_  
_She cut too deep, now she left me scarred_

**I Fall Apart - Post Malone**

 

 

 

 

 _Clarke_.

 

 _Clarke_.

 

 _Clarke_. **Clarke** —  

 

It was the only name that repeated in his brain, the only person he could reach out for. Something was wrong, and Bellamy couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was happening — or why he was hearing two voices belonging to the same person. 

 

One voice rang in his head, _literally_ , it was all he could hear. As the simulation painted a clear and vivid image of his life before disaster struck, he could see Clarke in front of him with her torn shirt and ripped pants. A backpack hung on her shoulder, as she prepared to leave. 

 

As she prepared to leave _him_. 

 

There was another voice, matching Clarke’s voice almost perfectly. Unlike the one in his dream that met his reality, this version of Clarke was strained, tired, and loud. It sounded like she was yelling, and looking for someone. This is the part he didn’t understand, because the second version of Clarke sounded distant and out of his reach: therefore, she sounded like the girl he knew. 

 

The girl whos been through so much, is shouting and he could hear her clearly. 

 

Was she in another room? Was she trying to get through to him? Was _either_ version of Clarke trying to keep her sanity through a simulation that he has only had a taste of? 

 

Bellamy could feel the darkness take over his entire body, his eyes shut closed and he couldn’t focus on anything else but the shock that passed through his brain. _I could do this_ , he encouraged himself. 

 

Everything was black now, the real world swept beneath his feet, and he tries to keep his breathing steady with the anticipation growing: trying to not let the fear take over, the feeling that settled in the bottom of his stomach and he could feel it rising— 

 

Just as the light shines in the distance, as the sun shines in his face, and voices surround him: he recognizes how familiar they sound, and his heart breaks. 

 

Just as he starts to get a feel for what was real and what he was experiencing for a second time, he heard a voice call out to him: but it didn’t sound... _right_. 

 

” **Bellamy** ,” it sounded like a girl, panting and voice raspy. “ **P-Please don’t leave**.” 

 

His heart beats fast: was it Clarke? 

 

“ **I’m sorry**.” She shouts this time, the sound piercing his ears with the intensity of her words. “ _ **I’m sorry**_.” 

 

Bellamy felt sorry too, having no idea which version of Clarke was speaking to him. Although, the simulation wasn’t backing down from the fight: the ache in his heart was felt when Pike was aggressively pulling him by the arms, taking the rifle from his hands, and further away from the person that he just wanted to know if she was okay. 

 

Clarke coming back from her lonesome adventure after Mount Weather, caused Bellamy to act irrationally and lost. It was true, every single thing he felt, only because he didn’t have Clarke with him for three months. 

 

It was the only reason why he leaned on Pike’s shoulder, why he trusted him. It was because she left everyone that cared about her, she left _him_. 

 

There’s an anger that erupts in his chest when he sees Pike, back from the dead and in front of him...like he had never been gone. 

 

A single question remained, a thought he couldn’t possibly shake off the burden on his shoulders. Why was Clarke reaching out to him in the first place? He didn’t want to think she was in danger, but he couldn’t even try and save her because he was slipping under. 

* * *

The gates of Camp Jaha stood tall in front of him, voices blaring around him because of morning chores. Bellamy is used to chaos, but doesn’t expect to feel someone grab his arm and pull hard. 

 

“What about Lincoln?” Octavia demands with her voice small. Her brown eyes were intense with emotion, and he knew why. “Indra? Those are our allies, Bell. We can’t abandon them, I wo—“ 

 

“They betrayed us.” Bellamy cut her off with his arms crossed, he reminds them both of the fight at Mount Weather. He didn’t need to explain himself, knowing exactly what his sister was so angry about. The fight that cost human lives to be lost yet they ultimately _won_  “Indra left you in that mountain to die, the tribe you trusted, left you to fight for _yourself_.” 

 

“Lincoln didn’t do anything wrong,” She fights back, avoiding the previous statement with her eyes narrowed up to her big brother. The person who was supposed to have her back, “Yet, he was beaten and banished from this camp like he was a threat all along when he just wanted to help us.” 

 

Bellamy nods his head in agreement, as he understands the loyalty and commitment Lincoln and his sister had with eachother. It reminded him of— _No_ , he won’t say it, not even think about her. 

 

 _He had to be smart_. 

 

“Lincoln is different.” 

 

“So what’s the problem?” Octavia questions with a gesture of her arms, the thought of being isolated in one place still freaks her out. She wants to explore and fight for her values, not just live with people who are afraid. “I want to leave.” 

 

“Both Lincoln and Indra, the entire TriKru tribe is out there, behind our walls waiting for us.” Bellamy says, his hands steady on his sister’s shoulders. He had to get through to her, _he had to be strong enough_. “They are grounders, at least it’s safe in here where Pike and his people can look out for us. They can protect us.” 

 

“Well, I am never calling Pike my leader and especially not his _people_.” Octavia says with disgust, “He manipulates everyone into believing his word, and thinks every outsider doesn’t belong here. He believes that every person who wants to help, who doesn’t come from the sky, doesn’t know how to communicate without blood being lost.” 

 

Bellamy sighs, “You don’t get understand, O. Pike has kept this camp intact ever since he came down, he knows what he’s doing. He knows how to keep us safe, how to keep _you_ safe.”

 

His sister doesn’t budge. She steps away from him, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and she looks close to tears, mostly of frustration. 

 

“I get it.” She huffs, and continues. “But just know this, big brother,” Octavia starts to walk backwards, and away from the home she once knew. The person she thought would understand, “Pike can’t replace Clarke, and you know that. She kept you balanced, helped you make the right decisions. It’s _easy_ to tell how much you depend on Pike, to see it unfold in front of me. I think you miss her so much that you lean on anyone who can show you how to make things right and just, but Pike is the wrong person for that.” 

 

“Octavia—“ He warns, jaw clenched and feet eager to step forward and into her face. 

 

“Don’t even try and fight me on that, Bellamy.” She says, “We both know I’m right, and that’s why I’m leaving.” 

 

He didn’t move, frozen in place even after his sister was long gone. 

(Bellamy should’ve listened to her, but deep down, he always knew she was right. About everything.)  

* * * 

“We did the right thing,” Pike says with certainty, splashing water on his face that was caked with dirt and blood. It wasn’t a welcoming sight, but it caused Bellamy to do the same. “They were waiting to attack, and we can’t let any of the other clans think that we can be vulnerable or protected.” 

 

Bellamy leans down, his hand under the creaky faucet as water fills the palm of his hand. “Did we make the right choice?” 

 

There’s a sense of regret deep in his mind that he can’t shake off. 

 

“We protected _ourselves_.” Pike says with a rough tone, “That should be enough” 

 

“What if Lexa was telling the truth?” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“I’m just saying,” Bellamy shrugs, as he scrubs his hands with water. He finds the cold to be nice against his skin, and he scrubs and scrubs and _scrubs_ \- “What if she sent TriKru to protect us from Azgeda?” 

 

What if Clarke was right? _Seeing their faces every day, it’ll only remind me of what I did to get them here_. Her words so powerful in his mind, and here in this tiny room— enclosed within four metal walls, a sink that’s washing away the red stains from his fingers, hands that ached with holding a trigger for so long. 

 

He killed people. All for and because of Pike, because of what he thought was right. _None of it did_ , he didn’t feel no satisfaction in watching life drain away from people’s faces. He remembered what he told Clarke, when she felt regret in what happened to Anya or Jasper. 

 

Who he needed to be to survive — a selfish, rebellious and strong leader without the person he thought he would do everything with, versus, who he already was — a selfless, compassionate and terrified man who didn’t know what he was doing. He took things to heart, he tried to understand the bad, but ended up mistaking good. 

 

Pike argued, “That girl has no idea what she’s doing. She can’t control her people the way she wants to, and she sent TriKru to make us look weak. If we want to survive, we can’t let people step on us.” 

 

Bellamy shakes his head, his hands gripping the sink with force and he’s afraid that it’ll creak or snap. He didn’t feel good about this, blood was on _his_ hands. He swore that he’d kill only when necessary, and he killed out of passion and survival instincts. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

 

The two men are silent with thoughts afterwards, afraid to speak their mind as Bellamy felt numb inside. His bones aches and muscles burned, his mind racing with thoughts and tears threatened to spill. 

 

He kept asking himself one question, a quiet plead for an answer. 

 

Where was Clarke? 

 

 _Oh yeah_ , he remembered. She was gone, and with Lexa. 

 

That night was tough, he remembered and luckily he didn’t have to experience it again, Bellamy kept himself up with loud sobs that erupted in the back of his throat and an open conscience, _he did the wrong thing_. He needed Clarke in that moment, but she never showed. 

 

She didn’t show when he needed her, and that broke him. 

 

When she comes back in two months time, she’s broken too, and Bellamy doesn’t know why it felt so gratifying. She needed him to understand her side of things, but all he ever needed was her to be _there_. 

* * *

 

When the simulation switches, Bellamy finds himself in Praimfaya: he was younger, naive and in love. 

 

 _He was in love with Clarke._  He would admit that it took him long enough to realize and accept, but she was beside him as she stared at their friend Raven who had just sent them off with a tablet to work the satellite mechanisms. Her eyes were wide as she walked in silence. 

 

“Are you okay?” He says, voice rough and shaky as the instinct to slow down with Clarke tugging his hand. “We have to be keep moving.” 

 

Bellamy didn’t want to sound rude or seem inconsiderate, but as his chest filled with fear and worry — he couldn’t help himself. He needed to get both him and Clarke back to Becca’s lab, safe and sound. 

 

“I just wanted to say,” She stuttered, her face scrunched with effort to let the words out, whatever she had to. But he noticed how much she struggled, and he squeezed her hand softly. “I—“ she tried to continue. 

 

“Clarke,” He assured, they could have the time to talk when they got back to the lab. When they got into space, they could have six years of conversations, but right now, in that moment — they had to move. “You don’t have to say anything right now, it’s fine.” 

 

“I saw Raven yell at us,” Her voice filled with urgency, and she sighed. “She wanted us to hurry.”

 

He tugs at her hand as he picked up the pace again, “Oh, okay.”

 

He didn’t have time to wonder why she was so hesitant or scared to tell him anything, he didn’t have time to let the thought linger: _Was she thinking about me_? 

 

Bellamy tries to fight it. 

 

His mind goes blank, once they get to the satellite tower. The winds are picking up: they get stronger, almost having the power to pull their bodies back with pressure. Bellamy feels like if let’s go of her hand, he would get lifted away into the atmosphere and straight into the fire. 

 

It was an easy choice then, he just doesn’t let go. 

 

( _Something felt off, and the simulation was playing tricks with his memory. This isn’t what happened, he tries to tell himself. Come on_ —) 

 

“It could only fit one of us.” Clarke says finally, her attention fixated at Bellamy who hasn’t moved from her side. A few feet away stood the tower, and she gulps nervously. “I’ll do it.” 

 

“You don’t have to, we could do it together.” 

 

“This is the one time we can’t.” She frowns, and his heart begins to tear into multiple pieces. He could already feel her drift away, like she’s lost before he could hold on. “I’m smaller, and I’ll be faster.” 

 

Bellamy bites his lip, sweat beads falling down his forehead as he stares at the determination on her face. _She was serious_. 

 

“Fine,” He decides, walking until he’s in front of the power box. He opens it and finds diagrams of how the satellite tower worked, and he grunts. There was no key inside, Raven was _wrong_. “Wait, there’s no key.” 

 

“I’ll do it manually.” Clarke replied, her fingers tap on the back of the tablet. It was a nervous habit, he’s come to notice. 

 

“Clarke,” He turns to her, begging her to think this through. “What if you can’t get down fast enough?” His voice cracks with emotion. 

 

His eyes turn to the sight in front of him. 

 

It hits him all at once: the change of weather from warm to blazing heat, the conflicting breeze passing through the trees. The cloud of heat and smoke coming closer with every minute that passes, the noise of the Earth cracking at its seams. _They didn’t have time to get emotional_. 

 

( _The simulation was playing tricks with him, kept him on the edge of his seat as he struggled to keep intact. The scene plays out, and he can’t find any words to describe how it feels._

 

 **This isnt how Praimfaya happened**. 

 

 _He left her behind then, now he would have to watch her die in front of him? It was cruel punishment, a prize of immense guilt._ ) 

 

“I’ll be fine,” Clarke says, the smallest of smiles grow on her lips to assure him of her ability to do whatever it was to survive. “You’ll be watching me the whole time, as long as you catch me if I need to jump down, I’ll be okay.” 

 

“You don’t know that.” He says with a low voice, not giving into her teasing. There’s tears forming in her eyes, and his vision gets blurry too. “What if this doesn’t go well?” 

 

“How much time do we have left?” 

 

He looks down at the timer projected in big numbers on the tablet in her hands, and Bellamy knows she’s afraid to look. 

 

“Twelve minutes.” 

 

“I’ll try my best,” Clarke nods, and she slides the tablet into the bag on her backside and she starts to climb. She puts one foot ahead of the other, and Bellamy calls out to her. 

 

( _I know what happens to you_.)

 

”Clarke!” He shouts, and she stops and steadies herself against the metal frame. 

 

She looks down at him, and she tries to calm her nerves that want to erupt in her body when she sees him: Bellamy stood with his hands gripping the metal, debating if he should follow her. 

 

“Be careful.” He begs, and looks up at her face filled with worry. With a firm nod of his head and hands gripping the metal sides of the tower, he assured her. “You could do this, just don’t freak out.” She nodded in response, and he doesn’t try to think about anything else. 

 

Bellamy watched her every move, taking a breath only when she accomplished something. When both feet planted on the platform, he took a short breath as if he would lose more air if he wasn’t looking intently at what happened next. 

 

He could see how her hands shook with nerves, fingers trembling against the keypad as she struggled to put the passcode in. The winds were picking up with every second, it came to a point where he had to hold onto the metal frame in order to keep himself grounded and not blow away. It was a necessity, just like how Clarke needed to get the job done a few feet above him. 

 

“Clarke?” He calls out, yet he feels like his voice is drifting in the breeze that passes. “Is everything okay?” 

 

She ducks down, trying her best to make sure she heard him. “The tablet isn’t working, Bellamy it’s not connecting properly.” Her voice cracked as she spoke through the mic, and she has a few noticeable tears running down her cheeks and he can’t _even_ — “I don’t know what to do.” 

 

“That’s it,” Bellamy decided. He takes off the backpack from his shoulders and throws it to the ground, “I’m coming up there to help you, we have to figure something out.” 

 

“No, _No_.” Clarke demands, keeping the tablet close to her chest as her gaze settles on Bellamy and how he already had one foot climbing, how ready he seemed to be. “You can’t do that.” 

 

“Clarke, we don’t have time.” 

 

“Exactly,” She said. “That’s why you can’t come up here, I need to do this.” 

 

“You don’t even know what you’re doing and the tablet _doesn’t_ work!” Bellamy snapped, yet his body has a mind of its own when he steps down. He looks up at her again, trying not to get lost in any possible reason as to why her hand is extended out to keep him away. “I’m not letting you do this alone, I’m here for a reason.” 

 

“Bellamy.” She warned. 

 

“Clarke.” 

 

“Listen to me, please.” She stood and turned away from him, and it surprised him. He couldn’t do anything but watch as she started to climb higher, not wasting time in making sure she wouldn’t fall—she doesn’t even look down— and he doesn’t hold back anymore. 

 

Bellamy shouts, “What the hell are you doing?” He snapped at her. 

 

“I’m saving you.” She waits until she gets to the satellite itself, and her chest is caving with lack of oxygen. She was focused entirely on the task in front of her and ignored Bellamy’s pacing. 

 

It all happened too fast. 

 

The death wave was coming, holding no mercy as the Earth began to blaze in orange and yellow— as Bellamy counted down the minutes in his head. He licked his lips to keep from biting them, as he couldn’t move. He watched as Clarke began to tilt the satellite back and forth and she would glance down at the panel to see if it worked, and there was a sudden feeling of anger that grew inside him. 

 

 _He could’ve done that easier, and much faster_. 

 

“Clarke, please.” He yelled, “We don’t have time.” He ran to the other side of the satellite tower, wanting to get a good look at her. 

 

She wasn’t even paying attention to him as she tried to do this as fast as she could, and Bellamy’s heart was slowly breaking into pieces—that he’s sure would never be put back together if she doesn’t come back with him— and he didn’t know what to do. 

 

“We have seven minutes.” Was all she said to him, but he caught a glimpse of the tears running down her face in the flurry of dirt and heat in the air surrounding them. 

 

“We have to get back,” Bellamy pleads with every ounce of emotion he could muster, afraid to think the worst. “Did you do it, yet? Is it done?” 

 

Clarke stops for only a second, and grabs the railing to look over and down at him and it’s like his heart stops entirely. He could die right then and there, it would hurt less than the words he says to him. 

 

“ _Seven minutes_.” 

 

“We have to go,” Bellamy repeats again but breaks his gaze to look into the distance. The blaze of fire was getting closer, and there wouldn’t be enough time to get back— “You and me, _we_ have to go now.” 

 

“I need more time.” Clarke begs, her voice drained and cracked. She couldn’t stop crying, and her throat burned with the effort to keep herself sane. “You have to go if you want to get back to the lab in time.” 

 

“I’m not leaving you.” He said, and It was such a strong statement that it threw Clarke off balance, and she gripped even harder onto the satellite dish. 

 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you here to do this alone,” Bellamy felt his heart soar, his cheeks were wet with tears because she must’ve known that she was asking the impossible. “I’m not running away, not when you’re going to die.” 

 

“You have to survive.” She responded and starts to climb back down the the base level to adjust the panel. If she could just adjust it more to the right, she could get this done quickly. Clarke didn’t care if she wouldn’t be able to walk for days with torn muscles; she would run her hardest to get back to the lab if she could just get the job done. “Bellamy, I need you to go back for me.” She sounded so sure, so certain that he would listen to her if she put her life on the line. 

 

Just in case. A precaution, the best way she could describe it. 

 

“ _God_ , I should’ve gone with you.” He talks to himself, following her direction around the tower. “It was supposed to be easy to do this, was Raven even sure this would work?” 

 

“She didn’t know.” 

 

“I know something though,” Bellamy starts to explain, “Clarke look at me, will you? It’s important.” He waits until she locks eyes with him, but he doesn’t react. “I know you’re strong, I know you could handle the world on your shoulders and trust me, I know that you want to protect and save me before this death wave hits.” He nods slowly, keeping her engaged in his words. His voice booms, like it’s the only thing she could hear. “But, I can’t go back without you.” 

 

“Why not?” She pleads in desperation and pain written all over her face. There’s blonde hair that sticks to her forehead with sweat, and he wished he could do something about it. “You could live, you could leave me and make it back to the others.” Her head tilts in confusion, and she finally stops trying to distract herself and she takes everything in. 

 

The death wave was minutes away from scanning the Earth, from killing innocent people and leave the planet broken and barren—and for some reason, Bellamy didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to be safe or survive, he just stood in front of her with determination and the instinct to survive. 

 

“Because, living without _you_ Clarke _,”_  He began but paused to compose himself, he couldn’t prevent the emotion from crawling through. “I don’t know what I would do, I don’t want to survive or live, _none of it_ , if I won’t have you.” 

 

“What are you gonna do?” She asked him, as he couldn’t help but match the smallest smile from growing on his lips that was also on her face. “We’re going to die, when we have people we love waiting for us.” 

 

“I’ve got you.” Bellamy said. “I have the person I love most right here.” 

 

She knew he meant it, so she doesn’t even question the value of his word. 

 

It was simple then. It was one the easiest decisions he’s ever made, and the most dangerous. Bellamy climbed the tower with heavy steps, pulling Clarke into his chest when he was close enough and he just held her in his arms until the tablet went off. They had tried their best but ultimately accepted the end result as fatal, and Bellamy was  _happy_. 

 

He looked up at the blue sky that was quickly turning orange, the atmosphere almost burned entirely—and that’s when it hit him—If this was how he died then so be it, he placed a kiss onto the crown of Clarke’s helmet, hesitant to take his own helmet off to make the process of dying quicker. But he couldn’t do that, not when he was holding the last person he’d ever see with his own two eyes. 

 

He looked at Clarke, and finally understood what life truly meant to him. 

 

If he was able to stare into her blue eyes until his pulse faded to nothing, skin burned through to bone; then so be it. 

 

Bellamy doesn’t get to feel the way his body completely falls limp, because his mind goes blank and fades to darkness. 

* * *

Bellamy didn’t know why his simulation was changed. He had thought that going through the exact same events that happened so long ago would help him to move on, to move past the reasons why it was filled with so much regret. 

 

He thought it was a cruel act, to go into an alternate reality and change their fate together. He had to die in the arms of the girl he loved, and he would’ve went out like that instead of living on the ark for six years without her. 

 

He enjoyed living through the simulation and that’s just _cruel_. Bellamy didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the second that he stepped into the pod to escape praimfaya—Clarke was the one and only thing on his mind, and he wondered for years what it would’ve been like to live and _die_ with her— and now that his curiosity was gone and put into somewhat of a reality; it was something he ached for. Something he didn’t realize he had wanted. 

* * *

 

It was all a simulation he realized soon after, but it doesn’t take away from how much he would’ve preferred that ending from the original. Because, in the original; he had to leave Earth and live in agony for six years and fix his torn heart with someone else who deserved to be given a second chance. 

 

Even after coming back to the ground and finding out she was alive, it had felt like the Clarke he knew back then would’ve fought him hard to make him leave. 

 

So why does he still feel dead inside? 

 

Why does he feel empty? It was an answer he knew, but didn’t want to admit. 

 

He never _stopped_ loving Clarke, and that’s why it caused him to stir awake in the medical office. It’s why his heart was still pounding in his chest, aching to feel loved by a girl who he’s tried to obey for most of his life, aching to know that his co-leader is okay. 

 

Bellamy just wanted to know if she was alive, if their old selves didn’t die in the fire that burned his heart in agony and guilt. As much as he would’ve wanted to be with her during those fateful moments that determined his need to live by and for Clarke, he had to listen. He had to live, but now that she’s alive again, he wanted to take the leap and do more than just survive. 

 

Now that this was over, Bellamy just wanted to start a new beginning for the both of them. 

 

“You’re back,” The nurse said, slowly bringing his eyes to open. It takes time to adjust to the light and he could feel his body shaking, and his mind isn’t quite there yet. “This is reality, not a mind game. You’ll be glad to know that that’s over, so you can finally breathe again.” 

 

So he takes a deep breath, ignoring the burning in his throat and lets his head fall back until it hits the seat. _If he could feel his lungs fill with oxygen, he must’ve returned in his body. He wasn’t stuck inside his endless thoughts, of what could’ve been. Not anymore._

 

It takes a while to regain a sense of his surroundings, but it all comes back to him. Just like his feelings for Clarke, they all came rushing back _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and chapter three will be updated in the next few days. 
> 
> It’s the fallout between Bellamy and Clarke and how they recover and react to what they saw in the simulations. Will they admit that their demons were the times where they didn’t have the other? 
> 
> Well, let’s see. Till next time!


End file.
